Fairytale Dresses and Bows
by ThatNerdyWriter
Summary: Little Sherlock isn't liked in preschool, all the kids thought he was weird, mother thought he was weird, only Mycroft liked him. Until a new kid named John Watson came to school. Kidlock TransSherlock Johlock Oneshot (Rated T just because)


Every single table in the preschool was full, two kids to a table, every table besides the one Sherlock sat at. He sat alone, he played alone. No one wanted to play with the weird little 3 year old, even the teacher seemed to despise the freak. He was silently coloring at his table when the teacher begun to speak. "Okay kids, we have a new student. His name is John Watson, and I want everyone to make him feel welcome." As welcome as they all make me feel, Sherlock thought to himself but didn't say anything. The new kid had short, messy blond hair and he must have been a year older than Sherlock, probably in his last year of preschool. He would never want to play with him, just like the rest of the students. The teacher peered around for a seat for John to take, any seat besides the one next to the freak, but there was none. She sighed. "Okay, John, you'll have to sit next to Sherlock." She pointed to the seat and let the boy make his way over to his new spot. "Hi! I'm John!" The boy introduced himself when he sat in his seat.

"I'm Sherlock…" Sherlock said quietly, continuing to color his picture.

"What are you drawing?" John asked, looking over at Sherlock's picture. The picture was a girl with curly black hair in a pretty pink dress, but with a frown on her face. He quickly pulled the picture away so he couldn't see.

"Nothing." He answered dryly. But John's smile didn't fall.

"Do you want to play with me at play time?" Sherlock now looked up at the boy, shocked.

"You want to play with me?"

"Of course!" John exclaimed, grinning. "What do you like to play?"

"Pirates." Sherlock answered. "Or fairytale." John furrowed his eyebrow.

"Fairytale, what's that?"

"I play it with my brother. He's the prince and I'm the princess and we fight dragons." John grinned. "That sounds fun! Can I play?" Now, Sherlock gave a small smile and he nodded. "Okay."

Sherlock and John played all day. None of the other kids played with them, but neither of them cared. Sherlock wore one of the princess dresses over his clothes and John wore a crown and they fought with imaginary swords. Finally, it was time for parents to come and pick up their kids. A woman with a tired look and messy black curls walked in, and her eyes nearly turned red at the sight in front of her. "William Sherlock Scott!" Sherlock turned and grinned.

"Loom, mummy! I'm a princess!" She stormed over and grabbed his wrist I'm a tight grasp. "I don't ever want to see you wearing a dress ever again. Now, take it off." She said sternly and went to the teacher to complain. Sherlock didn't seem too phased by it and he took of the dress.

"Can we play again tomorrow?" John asked and Sherlock looked at him.

"You want to play with me again?" John nodded, grinning. "Okay!" Sherlock exclaimed happily before his mother came back over and grabbed his wrist, dragging him out of the school.

Every day, Sherlock's brother Mycroft would bring him to school before going to school himself, being already in his teens. Sherlock arrived at school with a pretty blue bow pinned to his black curls. He hopped to his seat while other children went out of their way to get away from him. But John was different. John came in and smiled happily at him.

"I like your bow!" He said, showing a big grin to reveal a missing tooth. Sherlock gasped and covered his mouth.

"Who pulled out your tooth?" John started giggling.

"No one pulled it out, silly. It well out, and a new one will grow in." Sherlock pulled his hand from his mouth.

"Really?" He asked, using his tongue to feel a spot where a tooth was missing in his own mouth, where a new one hadn't grown back since it was pulled prematurely.

"Why would someone pull out my tooth? That would hurt." Sherlock nodded his head.

It does." Before John could say anything, the teacher announced that they had to do schoolwork. Schoolwork mostly consisted of learning the alphabet and numbers. Sherlock excelled in this, which was one of the reasons most despised him. But John thought it was brilliant that the three year old knew how to count all the way to twenty.

"You're smart!" John raved after work time.

"Really?"

"Yes!" Sherlock was shocked. He wasn't used to hearing someone boast about his intelligence. He didn't know how to respond. But he didn't have to, since now it was playtime. John happily agreed to play fairytale with him again and they played and fought dragons until naptime.

"Okay everyone! Grab your mats and lay down, it's naptime." Sherlock pouted. He didn't want to take a nap, he wanted to be a princess and play with John.

"Do you want to sit with me at nap time?" John asked, noticing Sherlock's hesitance toward naptime. Sherlock grinned and he nodded. The two boys grabbed their mats and laid them next to each other. There were two preschool teachers, one who was young and that Sherlock knew was having an affair with her neighbor. She was mean and she didn't like him. Then there was another teacher, she was older and nice and she smelt like cookies. The other teacher came over to check on them and she smiled.

"Are you going to take off your princess dress before you take a nap, Sherlock?" She asked in a soft voice and Sherlock shook her head.

"No, I like my princess dress." She smiled softly and nodded, gently petting down some of his messy curls.

"Okay, sleep well, boys." Sherlock laid down on his mat with the blanket they use everyday. John followed his lead and he smiled at him before turning over and going to sleep. Sherlock didn't typically want to sleep, he normally didn't nap. But he was exhausted from all of their playing and he fell asleep almost immediately. But after nap, he was up again and wanting to skip snack to play. But John was hungry after his nap, so he sat with him while they ate the cheap little cookies that adults hate but actually taste like a cardboard-like stick of heaven. Sherlock talked his ear off about his brother Mycroft and all the games they play and how he would give him a boy or a clip for his hair everyday after they left the house. He told him that his mummy and daddy didn't like them playing fairytale or the bows, so he had to take them out when they came to pick him up and he couldn't wear princess dresses when he plays with Myc.

"Why won't they let you wear bows in your hair?" John asked while he chewed on his cookie. "I think you look pretty." Sherlock's cheeks turned red and he looked down, playing with one of his curls.

"Thank you…" He mumbled, looking down. John grinned and finished his cookie.

"Come on, let's go play!"

Sherlock made sure to take the dress off by the time his mother came to pick him up, but he had forgotten about the blue bow sitting amongst the black mess of curls. Sherlock's mother walked in and the smile on her face disappeared. She stormed over to the young boy and she pulled him up by his wrist.

"Come Sherlock." She snapped and yanked him, dragging him out of the school. The little child tried to keep up, but he was too tiny and he tripped, falling face first onto the concrete ground. He smashed his face into the ground and blood began to pour from his nose. He immediately started wailing, tears springing to his eyes and falling down his cheeks. He reached up, expecting his mother to pick him up and carry him, but she only yanked him back to his feet and continued dragging him back home, wailing the whole way. Neighbors poked their heads out their windows to watch the commotion of the sobbing little boy with blood staining his white shirt and his mother pulling him by the wrist. She dragged the boy into the house and gave him an angry, stern look.

"Sit down and don't move." Sherlock sat down on the ground, still sobbing pitifully, his nose and eyes leaking. Mycroft came down the stairs and he noticed Sherlock on the ground.

"Hey, Sher, what's wrong?" He asked, bending down next to him and wiping the blood away from his nose.

"M-mummy told me to stay here." He sobbed, wiping at the tears sloppily. The color drained from Mycroft's face and he picked up the little boy. Sherlock started screaming and pounding on his back.

"No, Myc! Mummy told me to stay!" He yelled but Mycroft didn't listen. He brought him up to his room and locked the door before setting his baby brother on his bed.

"I'm going to clean up your nose and you're not going to leave because mummy says so, okay?" Sherlock whimpered and nodded, smearing the blood and tears across his cheek. Mycroft left into the bathroom attached to the room and he brought a warm damp rag to the bed and he carefully dabbed the mess off his face. Sherlock jumped onto his brother's lap when he heard a loud shout.

"William Sherlock Scott! I told you to stay!" Sherlock whimpered and he crawled on his lap, burying his face in his chest. Their mother stormed up the stairs and pounded on Mycroft's door.

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft yelled, holding Sherlock close. But the lock was easily broken and she stormed into the room, yanking Sherlock off of him.

"No!" Mycroft ran after her but she slammed his door shut and jammed it with a chair so he couldn't get out. Soon, their father came home and they proceeded to teach him a lesson until ten o'clock at night and then they locked him in his room. After the chair was removed from Mycroft's door and he snuck from his room to Sherlock's. There wasn't much in the room, only a drawer with clothes, one or two toys, and a crib. Even though he was three years old, he was tiny and could still easily fit in the crib. The little boy was shaking and shivering. The window was open and his room was freezing. His blanket and pillow had been taken from the crib and he was only in his underwear. There were handprints and bruises all across his body. Mycroft slowly crept over and he gently touched the little boy's arm.

"Hey, sweetie, it's me." He said in a soft voice so he wouldn't frighten him. Sherlock looked up at him and and immediately reached up for him. Mycroft picked him up and he carried him into his own room, where it was nice and warm. He shut the door and brought him to his bed.

"You're going to sleep with me tonight, okay?" Sherlock nodded and wrapped his tiny legs around his waist. Mycroft laid him down then laid down with him, pulling his duvet over his little shoulders. Sherlock curled up next to him, comfortable in his big brother's arms, and he fell asleep.

Mycroft got Sherlock ready for school the next morning, getting him dressed in long sleeves so that it would hide the bruises. He carried him down to where oatmeal was sitting on the table for breakfast. Mycroft tried to place him in the cold, metal high chair, but Sherlock started crying and kicking, trying to get out of the chair. Mycroft sighed and just picked him back up, carrying him to his own chair and sitting down with him on his lap. He pulled over Sherlock's bowl and he picked up a spoonful of oatmeal.

"Look what I have!" Mycroft gasped and brought it to Sherlock's mouth, but the younger boy turned his head away, turning down the food. "Come on, Sher, you have to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It helps your mind grow, and I know how much you like growing your mind."

"Uh, uh!" Sherlock refused. Mycroft sighed and kissed his head before eating his own oatmeal.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat anything, Sher?" Sherlock shook his head and he slid off of his brother's lap, walking to the door to get his shoes. Sherlock sat down and looked at the shoes in front of him. Which shoe went on which foot again? Well, this looks right, maybe? He stuffed his feet into the shoes. It hurt, does that mean he did it right?

"You idiot child! Can't you do anything right?" His mother yanked the shoes off of him and she forced them on his feet the right way. He started crying, feeling like he did everything wrong. Mycroft came over and he pushed her away and sat down in front of him, taking off his shoes.

"Remember, Sher, I drew dots on your shoes. When you make the dots kiss, then you know they're on the right feet." He handed him the shoes. "Try it." Sherlock studied the shoes and the little black sharpie dot on the side of his shoes before putting the dots together and grinning a big white toothed smile. Mycroft grinned and he kissed his cheek, helping Sherlock put on the shoes and tied them. "You did it!" Sherlock jumped to his feet and hugged Mycroft, giggling happily. Mycroft stood and slid on his shoes, holding Sherlock to his chest. He grabbed his baby blue backpack before carrying him out of the house and down the sidewalk.

"Guess what I got for you today." Mycroft smiled and pulled a pretty pink frilly bow and he pinned it to his curls.

"There, beautiful." Sherlock blushed and he grinned happily before hugging his neck. Mycroft smiled and carried him into the daycare. Sherlock bounced against him and hit his shoulder.

"Myc, look! That's my friend!" He grinned, pointing to John who was coloring a picture. Mycroft smiled and kissed Sherlock's cheek and he carried him over to his seat. John looked up at him and he smiled brightly.

"Hi Sherlock!" Mycroft set Sherlock down in his chair. "Your bow is pretty today." Sherlock's cheeks turned pink and he grinned. Mycroft chuckled and he leaned down to kiss his brother's hair.

"I'll see you after school, Sher." Sherlock stood on his chair and he hugged him.

"Bye Myc!" Mycroft smiled and pet his hair before leaving. Sherlock plopped down in his chair and he grabbed his paper and crayons to draw. After a little while, John leaned over to look at his picture.

"What's your picture?" He asked him. Unlike last time, Sherlock pushed it between them so he could see. There were two stick figure people with frowny faces and then another stick figure smaller than the other two with a smile. Then there was one smaller than all the others in a yellow triangle dress and a bow in the black curls on it's head.

"That's mummy and daddy, that's Myc, and that's me!" Sherlock said, pointing to everyone on the picture as he explained.

"Why do your mummy and daddy have frowns?" John asked, looking at the younger boy next to him.

"Because mummy and daddy are sad that I have a dress on. But I'm happy." Sherlock explained and he smiled looking at John. John nodded and smiled.

"Okay, kids, time for school!" Sherlock put his picture away as the teacher begun to talk and he sat forward, a smile on his face.

Mycroft came into Sherlock's room that night to see a sight similar to the other night's. He was curled up in his little crib and he was shaking and sobbing. It was early still, only seven at night, and he didn't eat any dinner. Their mother tried to make him eat the oatmeal he refused to eat for breakfast and he refused again. This was, of course, after his beating. Mycroft came over to the crib and lightly touched his arm.

"Hey sweetie, I have a surprise for you." Sherlock looked up at him. He had a busted lip and a large bruise on his cheekbone directly under his eye. He held up his arms and Mycroft lifted him up, carrying him into his room. The boy was tiny and thin, only about twenty seven pounds. He shut the door and set him on the bed before pulling out a paper towel and pretty pink nail polish. Sherlock gasped and stood up, jumping on the bed.

"Yay!" Mycroft chuckled and sat down, pulling the three year old down on his lap. He took his hand and begun to carefully paint his short nails. Sherlock was bouncing around his room in glee as he stared at the pink standing out on his hands.

"Look Myc! My fingers are pink!" Mycroft laughed softly and pulled him up onto his lap.

"I'm glad you like it." He said before pressing a kiss to his cheek. At nine thirty, Mycroft put Sherlock in bed with him and he shut out the lights. Sherlock laid silently for a while before he opened his eyes.

"Myc?" He asked softly.

"Yes Sher?" He opened his eyes and looked at the tiny boy.

"John's mummy came to pick him up before mummy picked me up today. She hugged him and kissed him when she saw him. And John was wearing a short sleeved short, so I asked him where his owies were, he didn't know what I meant. So I asked his mummy where she gave John his owies, and she told me she didn't give John owies because she loves him. Why does mummy give me owies? Does she not love me?" Mycroft swallowed thickly and stroked his hair.

"She loves you, baby." He sighed and messed with one of his black curls. "I'm sorry she hurts you." Sherlock looked down.

"My teacher asked me why I always played fairytale with John and why I wore a dress and I told her that I was a princess. Mummy got mad and hit me in the back of my head and she told me never to say that again." Mycroft sighed and didn't say anything for a long time.

"May I ask you something, Sherlock?" Sherlock nodded and looked up at him. "Do you feel like a boy?" Sherlock didn't even think for a moment before he shook his head.

"No."

"Do you feel like a girl?" He asked instead and he nodded his head. "Would you like me to start calling you my sister." Sherlock grinned and nodded his (her) head. Mycroft just smiled. "Then, baby sister, get some sleep." Sherlock smiled and curled up against Mycroft, falling asleep against his chest.

Sherlock was woken up from her sleep in the morning and was still half asleep when Mycroft carried her to school. She sat in her seat and laid against the table. John sat next to her and he grinned.

"Hi Sherlock!" Sherlock whimpered tiredly. "Do you want to play fairytale?" Sherlock shook her head. She wasn't in the mood to play right now. John looked upset, but he eventually left to go play. The nice teacher who smelt like cookies came over and knelt by her.

"Hey honey, you okay?" She laid her cheek against the table and rubbed her eyes. She smiled softly, then an idea popped into her head. "You know, I always brush the girls' hair every morning, would you like me to do your hair?" Sherlock jumped up immediately, grinning. She smiled and held out her hand, taking Sherlock's hand and leading her to a beanbag chair, sitting her down on her lap and grabbing her brush. She hummed softly while she ran the brush through her curls. After neatly braiding a crown around her head, she placed the yellow bow to tie it off. Sherlock smiled and hugged her before running off to play with John. Her mood changed and she felt pretty. She wanted to wear the dress without the boy clothes on. Even though they were only supposed to put on dress up clothes over their regular clothes, she pulled off her dress and pants to put on a pretty yellow Belle dress to match her bow. John watched and he noticed thick black and purple bruises all across her skin.

"That's a lot of owies. Do they hurt?" Sherlock looked down at her arms and she nodded, rubbing one of the bruises. "Well, I want to be a doctor when I grow up, so I can make your owies feel better." He made Sherlock sit down on a little sofa.

"How?" Sherlock asked, looking up at him.

"I kiss them better. Doesn't your mummy kiss your owies better?" Sherlock shook her head.

"No, but Myc does sometimes." John nodded and he pressed little pecks along all the bruises showing on her arms. He then pecked a kiss on the bruise on her cheekbone then he noticed her busted lip. The teacher turned around right when John pressed a peck to her lips.

"Hey!" The teacher yelled and stormed over to them. She was about to tell them off for kissing when she saw the bruises. "Oh my god." John looked down, thinking he did something wrong.

"I was just making his owies feel better." The teacher motioned the other one over and she gasped when she saw the bruises.

"Oh dear!" She knelt down next to Sherlock. "Sweetie, who did this to you?"

"Mummy and daddy." Sherlock answered and looked down. "Are we in trouble?"

"No, baby." She said and picked her up. "Call social services and his brother." She said, holding her close and gently stroking her bruises. John watched, confused on what was going on.

"Why would your mummy and daddy give you owies?" He asked, looking up at Sherlock.

"Because they don't like that I wear dresses. They tell me I'm a boy, but I'm a girl." She answered, messing with her pink nails.

"You're a girl?" John asked and Sherlock looked down, nodding.

"Why didn't you tell me? I've been calling you a boy." The teacher smiled softly and held Sherlock close.

"We'll just call her a girl from now on, okay?" John grinned.

"Okay! Can Sherlock and I go play fairytale again?" She smiled and set her down so they could go play.

Mycroft came into the school, looking around.

"Sher!" He called. Sherlock looked up from playing with John and she grinned, running over.

"Myc!" She jumped up into his arms. Mycroft smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Your hair looks beautiful." Sherlock grinned and hugged him tightly. Mycroft sighed, holding her close.

"Where are we going to live…" He asked quietly to himself. The teacher, who taught Mycroft when he was younger.

"You know, Mycroft, if you don't have anywhere to go, you can come home with me." Sherlock looked up and smiled.

"Really?" She smiled and pulled her into her arms.

"Of course, I love having you around, Sherlock. And I have a bunch of pretty dresses that you can wear and I can buy bows for your hair." Sherlock grinned and she hugged her. Mycroft smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holmes."


End file.
